Part of a Balanced Breakfast
by A Lonely God
Summary: Joel stumbles across an interesting foodstuff. Ellie is a little hesitant to try.


They're rummaging through the mostly empty drawers and cabinets of an abandoned home when Joel finds it. It's definitely expired; maybe almost ten years past due, but there isn't much left in the way of food that's not either far past its shelf date or worth eating at all. Joel unscrews the lid of the jar, inspecting its half full contents, and leans down to sniff at it.

He's standing in the kitchen, looking incredibly impressed with the foodstuff, when Ellie meanders her way back to him.

"I'll be damned," Joel murmurs to himself, flipping the container over and reading the faded label on the back.

Ellie shoves the rest of the string she found on a shelf in the living room into her backpack, and looks up at him.

"The hell's that?" She asks, shoving hands with dirty fingernails into the pockets of her threadbare jeans. Joel half turns, still holding the container in his hands. He smiles, just a little, the corner of his mouth pulling up.

"It's, ah," Joel trails off, setting the food down on the nearly broken kitchen table, "It's Nutella."

The house they are standing in is entirely empty of life, which Joel knows beyond all certainty, due to the rotting bodies of three adults that are perched precariously on seats in the living room. Ellie had squeezed her eyes shut when she'd seen them the first time, but she had gotten used to the smell and to the look of the bodies, what with their exposed tendons and black, bloated skin.

It's getting cold outside. Ellie doesn't mind the chill. Joel himself is quite used to it.

"The fuck is Nutella?" Ellie asks, leaning over the jar. She sees the brown paste inside, not dried out but clearly not fresh, "Is that s'posed to be food?"

Joel chuckles, a very nice sound to Ellie's ears. He chuckles very often, now. In fact, she's sure he's chuckled more since their adventure in the hospital than in all the time she's known him. It sounds something like what Joel has described as tires on a gravel road, and Ellie wishes more than anything to be able to hear, to be able to compare those two sounds.

"It was a spread sorta thing," Joel says, picking the Nutella jar back up and sweeping one finger into it. His finger comes back with a bit of the substance on it, "Y'know. Like peanut butter."

"Does it _taste_ like peanut butter?" Ellie asks, frown deepening, "Doesn't look like any peanut butter I've ever seen."

There's a silence, and then another laugh from Joel, and at this point he is fairly certain she's just saying these things to get him to laugh.

"It ain't peanut butter, Ellie. It's, ah, it's chocolate and hazelnuts. Real sweet. One of Sarah's favourite things for breakfast."

He dabs at the Nutella on his finger with his tongue, mouth pushing downwards in an expression of totally fascination, "Still good."

Ellie's face crinkles in something of an expression of disgust. She's unsure whether or not she should try it, or tell the old man he's totally insane.

"Jesus, Joel!" She exclaims, lip curling upwards, "That shit's gotta be at least ten years old!"

"Can't pick and choose, Ellie," Joel says, trying some more, "Go on now. Try it."

Not entirely prepared to deal with a grumpy Joel for the rest of the day, she, too, sticks her finger into the jar and tastes the spread, dabbing tentatively with her tongue. A smile cracks at the corner of her mouth.

"Okay," she admits, reaching in for seconds, "Okay, this is actually pretty good."

And again, Joel laughs, and Ellie notes that this is the most it's ever happened in one day. He crosses his arms over his chest, not before repositioning his bag on his shoulders.

It's interesting, Ellie thinks, that she and Joel should find themselves in an abandoned house, next to the bodies of three dead human beings, eating from a jar of hazelnut spread that is at least ten years past due. Certainly, very interesting, and perhaps a little bit morbid. She can't help but giggle a little at the situation.

And then, the two of them are full on laughing in the middle of the kitchen, the sun spilling in through the broken window and the chill nipping at their bones. Ellie is clutching her sides, the wrinkles at the corners of Joel's eyes are forming again, their voices are echoing around the house, and the whole time they're laughing, the birds are outside singing.

There is something about this kind of life that Ellie wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

The laughter dies down after a while, and Joel looks about them nervously. He's unsure if he can actually hear the screaming of the infected in the distance, or if he's just making things up because it's been too quiet for too long. He nudges Ellie with his elbow.

"We gotta go," He motions towards the door, and Ellie nods, unsure of his concerns. She herself can't hear anything at all, "You got everything? I reckon there ain't much else here to grab."

"Yeah," Ellie agrees, hiking her bag back up on her shoulders, "Should we, ah…should we bring the Nutella?"

He almost smiles. Almost. Instead, he screws the lid on the container and tosses it to her.

"C'mon. Poor bastards in the other room reek," Joel mumbles, ushering her out of the kitchen, "Let's get outta here."

* * *

**[an] **I am physically the shittiest person in the entire world. Just like the last thing I posted, this too was supposed to be DONE IN AUGUST AH. Essentially I was running this contest thing where the first five people to reblog my post would get a fic of their choice and whatnot.

And the lovely person to whom this is dedicated wished to see Joel showing Ellie Nutella! I'm hoping to god this lives up to your expectations, love!

As well, I'm using a different writing style for this one, so I'm curious as to what you guys think. I usually only write this way for Supernatural fics, but I mean, there's a first for everything, right?

Cheers! **[an]**


End file.
